<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Face of Fear by ChocolateTeapots</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29095899">The Face of Fear</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateTeapots/pseuds/ChocolateTeapots'>ChocolateTeapots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different Batman Origin, But with Clowns, Crack, Gen, It's the Batman:TAS Opening, Non-Graphic Descriptions of Clowns, POV Outsider, horror?, pure silliness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:48:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29095899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateTeapots/pseuds/ChocolateTeapots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In another world, a different fear inspires Bruce Wayne’s crusade.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Face of Fear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: Nongraphic descriptions of clowns</p>
<p>See the end notes for the full prompt.</p>
<p>Thank you to the wonderful <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/gumiii_writes/pseuds/gumiii_writes">gumiii_writes</a> for taking my ridiculous crack fics as seriously as anything else &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bruce ran through the carnival, pushing through the forest of legs, desperately searching for his parents.  The colorful lights became disorienting and glaring, the smells oversweet, the cheerful music foreboding and sinister.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce gasped for breath.  His heart thudded against his ribs hard enough to break them. The beating drowned out the shrieks of the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shadow fell over him and reached out a hand.  Bruce clawed at his arms, clutching them tight, and forced himself to look up into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The face of fear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny places the last box in the truck bed and hops back to the ground, rolling his shoulders.  Yeah, loading shipments for the Penguin isn’t the easiest on his back, he hasn’t seen the sun in what feels like months, and the Gotham docks smell like death and fish, but that’s just the job.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, it’s a pretty good gig.  Hell, he makes enough to put some in his 401(k).  It’s more than most of the poor schmucks trying to make a living in this city can say.  The last guy who asked the Riddler for a retirement plan got kicked off the roof.  To add insult to injury, he’d punctuated it with some lame “riddle” concluding that what the guy should have asked for was a life insurance policy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny smacks the side of the truck twice so the driver knows he’s good to go.  What’s in the truck?  Johnny knows better than to ask that question; he’s a professional, thanks.  The truck takes off, taking the dim cone of light from the headlights with it and leaving him in the dark.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just above his sightline, the Gotham skyline glitters, illuminated and oppressive.  Johnny ignores it, and instead just adjusts his black fedora and wanders back to the loose circle of half a dozen of his coworkers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hear ol’ Josh Moe got a promotion?” Jack is saying as Johnny joins the group.  “He’s a minor rogue under Captain Boomerang now.  Trying to work up a persona as ‘Average Joe.’  He got a mention in the Picture News article!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, good for him!”  After one too many run-ins with a certain vigilante, Josh had skipped town.  Johnny envied him that part, but had wished the kid well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dave scoffs.  His grey hair stands out starkly in the low light, being the only one of the group who refuses to wear his employer-provided fedora.  “Josh?  He’s small fry.  Tell me about it when he makes the evening news.   Back when I ran Gotham, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny shares a look with Jack.  It’s been a quiet night, pleasant almost, and then of course Dave needs to go off on another unnecessary tangent about how he used to “rule this city” and how he’s only working for the Penguin “in an advisory role.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, Dave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a series of pops over by the shipping containers, but the new guy is the only one to even turn and look.  Wasn’t their problem if Black Mask’s guys over there got into a scuffle.  Most of them are dicks anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The popping stops, and Dave’s still droning on. Johnny’s about to slip into a coma when Jack smacks him on the arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny’s about to go off on him, because what the hell? But he goes silent when he catches the look on Jack’s face as he stares behind them with wide eyes.  There’s yelling now, and as they watch the Black Mask guys come running out from behind the shipping containers towards them, shouting something incomprehensible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh hell no.  Johnny and Jack take off, most of their crew only a half second behind.  This is Gotham.  He doesn’t need a reason; if guys like him are running, he’ll run first and ask questions later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The vehicles are all parked only 50 feet away, and they book it for them.  He hears more shouting and gunshots behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny rushes through the glow of the streetlight to scramble at the door handle of the nearest truck.  It’s locked!  He fumbles for his keys, but they slip through his fingers and clatter to the pavement.  A car door slams ahead of him, and Johnny yells at them to hold up.  He runs forward, trying to catch the side of the truck bed to vault himself in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, he catches a glimpse of Dave’s stupid head in the driver’s seat before the truck takes off, spewing exhaust in its wake.  Johnny has just enough time to curse Dave before something hits the truck and it flips head over tail.  The truck settles upside down, and Dave stumbles away as it explodes in flames.  Above the stench of burning rubber and gasoline, the smell of banana cream washes over him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh god.  It’s them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abandoning the cars, Johnny sprints towards the city.  Behind him he hears another pie flying through the night, smashing into the next car and setting off another explosion.  He ducks around a sobbing Black Mask thug dangling from a string of multicolored handkerchiefs, and another struggling against a three foot length of balloon giraffe.  The trapped goon pops the thing with his knife only to be knocked out by the gas inside.  Ghoulish laughter sounds through the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny skids out of the alley and onto the street.  He jumps, narrowly avoiding an explosive whoopee cushion.  The guy behind him isn’t so lucky, and goes down in the foul smelling detonation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s darker on this street, with only a lone flickering streetlight.  He almost lashes out when someone pulls up alongside him before realizing it’s Jack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The safe house!” Jack yells over the carnage.  “On 5th!”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny smacks Jack’s arm with a whoop.  Right, the safe house is only a few blocks away!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re crossing 4th when a whooshing sounds overhead.  Johnny glances up at something yellow hurtling towards them.  He shouts, jumping out of the way and barely avoiding the projectile.  Jack isn’t so lucky, and falls to the ground, the rubber chicken bouncing ominously next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Johnny crouches, slapping Jack’s face, but he isn’t moving.  Then he hears a jangly tune echoing off the buildings and takes off running again.  The tune is cheerful, like an ice cream truck, but all the artificial notes are dissonant, going from major to minor in a perpetual Doppler effect.  Johnny strains, pushing himself harder despite the burning of his legs and lungs.  The multicolored headlights reach his shoes and creep steadily up his legs. He’s running as fast as he possibly can, but it’s still gaining on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the car’s almost upon him, Johnny dashes into a narrow alleyway.  If he cuts through here, it’ll let out right at the safe house!  Hope bubbles in his chest even as his lungs scream at him.  He glances behind him as he hears the car screech to a stop, turning back around just in time to slam face first into a chain link fence.  The door is padlocked and the fence topped with razor wire.  He shakes the fence futilely.  There’s no way he can scale it in time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door of the tiny car pops open and Jester after Jester tumble out.  They cartwheel and dance, a parade of rainbow outfits with oversized pants, multi colored onesies, and whimsical hats.  Every time he thinks there couldn’t possibly be more of them, another extracts themself from the depths of the car.  He clutches the fence tighter.  God, there are so many of them!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lightning splits the sky, pulling his eyes up to the imposing figure silhouetted on the rooftop.  It slowly unfurls from its hunched position over its tiny tricycle.  The massive shoes, the broad shoulders, the unmistakable twin horns he knows from the frightened whispers of his fellow criminals are actually rainbow colored hair: the trembling of his legs is too much and Johnny sinks to the ground in terror as the voice rings out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am flatulence.  I am the trite.  I am… Clownman!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The honking of Clownman’s nose echoes through the night and all Johnny can think is that it’s time to get the hell out of Gotham.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the following <a href="https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1454.html?thread=2560430">prompt</a> from the <a href="https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1454.html">DC Kink Meme</a>:<br/>Listen, you know how Bruce became Batman because he was scared of bats as a child?<br/>Show me a universe where he was scared of clowns. Not in a Batman Who Laughs way, just Batman with the bat theme switched with clowns along with all the changes that entails.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>